A spacious office was big and bold
Now it is an unused space, painted bold
There is a hut-like cubbyhole with mold
To get in there, your legs have to fold
The air is on high, so this space is cold
Hoarder-messy, it has never sold
A dark road creaks, a crackling carapace of ice
under bruising rubber.
Driving to the all-nite store --- need antacids.
It's pre-dawn, an hour behind the light;
potholes dream in their black bunkers.
No one rides this deadened road,
no car beams, or open-eyes gleam
until the car drifts into
the low magnetic hum
of a forecourt.
The neon Mini Mart has sunk
inside an insane façade of purpose,
lost as it is, in an electric trance.
Nobody dwells here at this hour
only the heavy-eyed-blue-heron man.
After the purchase, he disappears
into a cubbyhole of shadows.
Back home, the grinding jaw
of a garage door
seems to awaken a lick of daylight,
not here, but in the back of my mind.
~~~
edit
A troll followed me home one day,
Looking to bring me down.
I told it I didn’t want to play,
To go dig a great deep hole,
Roll its little soul into the black hole.
It didn't matter where I went
It just wouldn't go away.
The troll climbed up the phone pole
Stuck its drooling tongue out and scolded.
I had troll in my soup bowl,
Troll in my egg-roll,
Troll my keyhole,
Troll in my buttonhole,
Troll in my toilet roll,
Troll in my toilet bowl.
It followed me to school and crawled
Into my cubbyhole.
It followed me to the barber shop
Sat on top of the barber's pole.
It followed me on my date
Sat between me and my date.
I finally decided I was going to get control,
Ignored the troll and foiled its day,
Until one day it got bored
And slithered away.
3/12/2021
Children Story
There's a place of peace and rest, I think.
In daydreams there are hints.
But lost they are in just a wink,
and leave no fingerprints.
My valley is of rolling green,
with castles in the mist,
and starry glitter nightly seen
as by the heavens kissed.
At torment's end, forgiveness.
Release from worldly cares.
A pardon's leave to live in this-
a rarity of airs.
Though just a dream, I hold it fast,
abandoning it never.
In days of future, present, past,
It holds me close, forever.
What the hell's happening, I'm losing control
But I think there's still hope, must maintain my role
My role as a joker
A giggle provoker
Else I'll be climbing back in my cubbyhole
I am a shy girl who's never been on a date
But I'm twenty, and Mom says I'm just blooming late
I'm destined to be an old maid without a mate
Soon, I'll be past my prime
Always a wallflower. Alone, I brood and sit
Sometimes I'm a little quirky. I will admit
But talk with me and you'll see, I've got charm and wit!
I've mountains yet to climb
I'm the guilty one that no one ever suspects
Overlooked, as one of life's pathetic rejects
Here's a clue: I used a knife, and other objects
I committed the crime
I'm the actor never given the starring role
The person always shoved into a cubbyhole
I'm not invisible! I have a heart and soul
Might as well be a mime
I'm the elusive word for your poetic line
Look in a Thesaurus and you'll find me, Einstein
We can be a couplet, two planets that align
Let's make our poem rhyme
Sometimes I feel like the hands of a broken clock
Going nowhere fast should never come as a shock
But where is the man who holds the key to my lock
The one who'll ring my chime
A dark road creaks, a crackling of ice-skulls
under bruising rubber.
Driving to the all-nite store --- need antacids.
It's pre-dawn, an hour behind the light,
those black hollows of the night
where time goes blind.
No one rides this deadened road,
no car beams, or open-eyes gleam
until the car drifts into the low hum
of a forecourt.
The neon Mini Mart has sunk
inside an insane façade of purpose,
lost as it is, in an electric trance.
Nobody dwells here at this hour
only the heavy-eyed-blue-heron man.
After the purchase, he disappears
into a cubbyhole of shadows.
Back home, the grinding jaw
of a garage door
seems to awaken a lick of daylight,
not here, but
in the back of my mind.
It's 6:05 A.M. what am I doing on my computer
Limericks keep firing off in my brain like a peashooter
Totally out of control
Even outta my cubbyhole
That wasn't called for, I've lost control of my hooter
For some unknown reason, I love the word titular
I know, I know, maybe coz it sounds naughty like diddler
Look I don't make this stuff up
There're others like cubbyhole and such
Never said I was perfect, in fact, I'm a bit testicular
You're sauntering along oblivious to a pole
You walk into it, your vocabulary's out of control
“Golly gee, that hurt”
And other naughty words
Like shucks and winkie and cubbyhole
What the hell's happening, I'm losing control
But I think there's still hope, must maintain my role
My role as a joker
A giggle provoker
Else I'll be climbing back in my cubbyhole
Been feeling kinda naughty, have no control
Whenever this happens, I just let it roll
Try censoring my words
Nothing naughty like turds
But sometimes I say a bad word like cubbyhole!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Welcome to the "Wheel of Misfortune"
With your host, “Dirty Clothes” Pat
And dear sweet “Hole In Her Gowns” Vanna
You could lose your fortune like that
Players contribute ten grand of their own
The one with the most money loses
Ain't easy giving all incorrect answers
Ya feel like a bunch of silly gooses
First contestant is the one that goes last
Are you following, it can be a bit confusing
Audience get baffled, some leave in a huff
A few were even caught snoozing
Where's all this leading, I haven't a clue
Really feels like I've lost my control
Maybe I'll just gracefully fade to black
And crawl back in my wee cubbyhole
© Jack Ellison 2015
Born in Paris into a cubbyhole;
Someone tossed me off in the suburb;
All what is left a bind around my neck.
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